Turn back the Tide
by Iolana Khenemet
Summary: In 2004 James Bond spends his Christmas holidays in South Asia.
1. Chapter 1

**Turn back the Tide**

By Iolana Khenemet  
A James Bond Fanfic

Warnings: Not a happy fanfic.  
Beta: unbetaed  
A/N: Once tragedies are no longer in the news, we tend to forget about them far too soon. This fanfic is dedicated to all the victims of the Tsunami tragedy.  
Disclaimer: James Bond is the creation of Ian Fleming. The characters in the story are the property of Ian Fleming and the filming companies that produce Bond Films (United Artists, MGM, Eon), except for Jasmine, who is mine. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is gained by this work.  
Copyright: 2005

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Chapter 1: 25 January 2004

Exotic scents from the flowers filled the air, and James Bond inhaled them deeply while he walked back towards his hotel, which was situated a bit remote. The way he had chosen led through a small park where huge palm trees overshadowed the paths and only streaks of sunlight filtered through the canopy. A flock of birds bathed in the sand a few feet ahead, undisturbed by his presence. To his left he had a spectacular view at the ocean. The water glittered in the sun, and the waves rolled gently onto the beach. No one else was in the park because only a few other tourists spend their holidays here at the moment. He embraced the solitude and the comfort of nature. What else could he ask for on Christmas?

Last year he had battled a powerful drug lord. The year before, he had nearly frozen to death in the Antarctica. In 2001 he had been tortured in a North-Korean prisoner camp. Christmas 2000 had not been much better. Duty had forced him to spend it undercover on a submarine, and he had almost drowned when yet another megalomaniac had tried to dominate the world. Just when he had taken some time off, Elliot Carver had showed up.

This year the only thing Her Majesty's secret agent wanted was peace. And since he had never been in South Asia for holidays, he had asked Moneypenny to arrange this trip. Nobody could say that these few weeks off duty were not well-deserved. Bond paused when movement in the shadows ahead caught his eye.

A young woman of about 27 years leant against a tree trunk. "Hello."

"Hello." James smiled although he stayed alert.

With a mischievous gleam in her eyes she said, "I've been waiting for you." After a pause she added, "I watched you swim in the ocean. There hasn't been anyone as attractive as you here for several years."

James raised an eyebrow. He was no longer twenty or thirty but close to fifty and though physically fit, his age showed. What did she see in him?

As if she had read his mind, she said, "There's more to you than meets the eye. You're a very handsome man."

"And you're a beautiful woman. Do you live here?"

"No, but I've enough money to spend an extended holiday here every year. I'm -" She interrupted herself and continued, "You wouldn't be able to pronounce my name correctly anyway. Just call me Jasmine."

"Jasmine – what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I'm Bond, James Bond. Just call me James."

"James," Jasmine purred. She stepped away from the tree, walked past him and down a few stairs and stopped to look back over her shoulder at him.

The invitation was clear. Silently he followed while she led him away from the hotel resort and into the natural part of the small forest. Under a bush with red flowers she stopped and removed the blue band holding her hair together. "My rooms?" she asked. "My house is half an hour in this direction."

He chuckled. She certainly did not waste time. With a nod he indicated her to lead the way again.

Jasmine laughed and swirled around. Her black hair flowed around her head like a veil. When her small hand reached out, he took it without hesitation.

This day belonged to them.


	2. 26 January 2004

Chapter 2: 26 January 2004

Bond left her apartment the next morning, feeling fresh and, well, rejuvenated. Bushes of wild Jasmine grew around her rented house. He breathed in the smell of the flower that wore her nickname. Jasmine had reminded him of Wai Lin, yet she was so completely different, young and soft and…unspoiled. James smiled and took the path leading back to his hotel. Birds chirped in the trees, and briefly he wondered about the intensity of their chatter. How frowned but then he shrugged off the feeling of unease. Probably he should go bird-watching tomorrow, something he had not done in years.

An hour later, James reached his hotel. He had just gone upstairs when it happened. The floor beneath Bond's feet shifted, and he stumbled and fell. He tried to regain his footing but it was to no avail. Dust filled the air, and James coughed. The whole building shook. It had to be an earthquake, a rather strong one. Somehow he managed to get up and out of his room. Together with other tourists and the hotel staff he hurried downstairs. Once outside, Bond made sure to keep a safe distance.

Every tourist seemed to talk at the same moment, filling the air with mindless remarks. "The tourist agency said nothing about earthquakes in this region," a man told him. Bond left him standing there. He was not interested in the "I want my money back, I'll sue you" nonsense.

Most of all he wanted to contact MI-6 to find out if aftershocks were expected and if the local bureau needed assistance. Since the ground had finally stopped shaking, he judged it to be safe to hurry back to his rooms to get his mobile phone.

A good-looking room maiden blocked his way. "I'm sorry but I was instructed not to –" Her voice trailed off. Wide-eyed, she stared past him. Her taint paled to a chalky white, and she was hyperventilating. Then she ripped up her arm like a puppet on a string and pointed at something behind him. Her mouth opened as if to scream but no sound escaped it.

James had seen this expression of utter fear before, too often than he liked. Cursing silently, he grabbed his gun and spun around, ready to defend her and himself. He gasped in shock.

A giant wave was racing towards the shore like a nine-headed Hydra preying for food. Her mouths were wide open, and she would devour everything in her path. Higher and higher she grew while she sucked the water away from the shore. She would be over 28 feet high when she came crashing down on them. Her roaring filled Bond's ears. This enemy he could not battle.

"Tsunami!" someone screamed. Some tourists grabbed their cameras and ran down to the beach.

Bond shouted on the tops of his lungs, "Away from the beach! Run for your lives!"

A few of them halted and then continued running to the ocean as if he had cried "Wolf." He gritted his teeth. There was nothing he could do to make them see reason

Bewildered, yet strangely calm at the same time, James looked around. His car with all the built-in gadgets might have brought him far enough inland but he had left it at the MI-6 branch office 10 miles north. That left only one option: The hotel. With its three floors, it offered the highest chance to survive. All odds were against him but Bond had been in so many hopeless situations that he instinctively used every possibility to survive. He grabbed the hotel staff member by her arm and dragged her upstairs.

Moments later, the giant wave hit the shore, bringing doom to a peaceful peninsular.


	3. Back at MI6

Chapter 3: Back at MI-6

"My God! It's huge, it…" With that, the line to John Peterson, the agent in the bureau for South East Region 3, went dead.

Shocked silence filled the operations room. Barbara Mawdsley, known to everyone as 'M,' looked at Thomas Smith, the young man in charge of telecommunications. "Status report."

He shook his head. "I can't get through. The network has broken down."

"Can we reach Bond?"

"Trying."

M pressed her lips together. She had once told Bond that he was a dinosaur and a relic. After his imprisonment in North Korea she had even been ready to dismiss him from active service. But as much as she hated to admit it, he was her best man, and while he had his flaws, he also kept saving the worlds more often than she could count.

Moments later, he shook his head once again. "Sorry, Ma'am. I can't –".

A noise startled M, and she turned.

Moneypenny had dropped all the folders she had carried. Flushed red and with shaking hands, the secretary kneeled down to pick them up. Of course M knew of the perhaps hopeless crush she had on Bond. It was a pity, the girl was worth her weight in diamonds, and he just did not see it. M turned back to Smith before Moneypenny could get even more embarrassed. "Keep trying," she told him. Then she moved on to her chief of operations. "When can our satellites send pictures from the area?"

Charles Robinson seemed to be everywhere at once. Hastily he spoke into his head set, trying to get information out of nowhere. "In about – right now, M."

With that, the grey and white dots on the large screen were replaced by a coloured picture. Lush green forests covered a peninsula, tropical buildings stood among the trees, streets connected the villages.

"That was the area yesterday," Robinson explained. After he had hit a few buttons, a second image appeared next to it. "That's the most recent picture." The image could have come straight from a war zone. Squares indicated where moments ago buildings had stood. Almost all Trees were gone, the green replaced by dead brown.

"Dear Lord…

M closed her eyes but opened them immediately again. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw Moneypenny press one hand to her mouth and another to her chest. While the agency lost people at times, they seldom lost more than a few at once. Today's toll would be much higher; the complete staff of a few offices would be lost, and every death hurt like losing a family member. Not to forget that everyone in this room had personal connections to people living over there. Barbara Mawdsley straightened. She needed to be a rock, an anchor to cling to.

"Ma'am, incoming signal from South Asia, audio only. It's Bond!"

Before M could say a word, Moneypenny exclaimed, "James, thank God –"

007 cut her off. "Who is responsible for this?" His voice was calm, too calm, but a light tremor betrayed his barely contained fury.

"James –"

"Who!"

M stepped forward although he could not see her. "No one, Bond. It was a natural disaster."

"Don't give me that. There's no chance that you'll give this to another agent!"

"007, I'd love to tell you otherwise and would give you an order to kill with pleasure. Unfortunately there's no one to blame. This earthquake wasn't man-made, it was a natural one." After a pause she added, "I'm sorry, James."

Only the crackling of static answered her. Bond had closed the connection.

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Mix me a Martini and Diamond 77: Thanks for reviewing.

The wave image was probably the best image I have used so far in a fic.Bond has survived and he 's not in a good mood now.


	4. Jasmine

A warning: this is not a happy fanfic..I guess that says were it heads.

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Chapter 4: Jasmine

James clenched his hands to fists. He wanted to grab the throat of the megalomaniac who was responsible for this and squeeze the air out of him. He wanted to shot him from a short distance and see the life die in his eyes. He wanted to blow up his organisation and the madman with it. It was unbelievable that this should simply have happened with no evil mastermind behind it hungering for world domination. James could have screamed in frustration and probably he had. But M had not lied, he felt that. Running a shaking hand through his wet hair, he looked around.

Where only hours ago a coastal forest had been was now, well, nothing. The trees had been uprooted and washed away. The small village was gone. Boats lay on top of cars, buildings had been ripped apart. One of the few that still stood was his hotel. The realisation was only now beginning to sink in how close he had come to dying. The water had rushed into the hotel and washed over them while they had been running upstairs. Somehow they had managed to cling to the handrail until it was over. Most people, however, had not been so lucky. Corpses filled the beach, the water, the land. Children screamed for their mothers, wives mourned their husbands, parents desperately searched for their children. Death and suffering surrounded him.

Out of reflex he grabbed outstretched hands and pulled people to their feet while their faces blurred to meaningless masks. Jasmine, he had to get to Jasmine. He struggled against the knee-deep water and the mud sucking at his feet to get to the path she had shown him just yesterday. Debris blocked his way, and more than once he had to climb over a tree trunk. Sometimes he had to make a detour because there was no way anymore. Yet he moved with all possible speed until he reached the bay where her house was situated.

The wave had hit here as well, destroying most of the small village. He noted with relief that her house was one of the few that had been spared. He dashed over, in through the open door. Panting hard, he looked around. "Jasmine?"

Icy fingers seemed to grip his heart when he spotted light brown skin, black hair and a torn blue hair band. It had to be her. He broke into a sprint as fast as the mud would allow.

She lay face-down next to the remains of a bush that had been in full blossom. He dropped to his knees beside her. "Jasmine?" Carefully he turned her on her back. His fingers automatically reached for her throat. There was no pulse. Reviving her was not an option, her body was already cooling. He stroked her silken, damp hair and untangled a twig from it. She looked as if she had only decided to take a little nap but unlike Snow-white, she would not wake up if he kissed her. James wrapped her in his arms and pressed her small body to his warm chest. His lips brushed her skin, and he was not ashamed of the tears running down his cheeks. A sigh escaped his mouth when he realised he did not even know her real name.

Gently James lifted her up and carried Jasmine back into her house. He wanted to lay her down on the bed but looking at it, he could not. Only hours ago they had made love here; he had looked into her sparkling eyes, so much alive, and kissed her cinnamon-tasting lips. He put her body down on the sofa instead. Holding her hand, he promised her to make sure she was buried in a civilised way, he would look trough her belongings for her ID as soon as he could. James stroked her hair one last time.

Then he left. There were lives to safe.

-end-

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I hope you still enjoyed reading this although it did not have a happy end. I ahve to say that writing a Bond fanfic which is not Goldeneye related is something almost "new" to me but it was interesting and Bond was quite nice to write and characterise.

Lady Slone: I'm glad you liked it so far, I hope I have provided a good read with the last chapter as well.

Mix-Me-A-Martini : How are your Bond stories doing, anything new coming up?

Diamond77: You're still writing Nightingale, as I see. I have to admit I admire anyone who can write a story of that length.


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